


Who needs sanity anyways?

by PhoenixVenom



Category: Bleach, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:02:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6803080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixVenom/pseuds/PhoenixVenom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Was just one peaceful vacation really so much to ask for? Apparently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Setting the scene

After much contemplation, a whole lot of arguing, and a minor fight between father and son, it had been determined that the Kurosaki household was going on vacation. In fact, they were not only going hiking this time; they were actually going abroad. And of all the places in the world they could have gone to, their destination was New York.  
     Yuzu was delighted, of course, but her two siblings failed to see what all the excitement was about. Both of them worried that something would happen while they were gone (of the bad, spiritual variety), but had been somewhat appeased by some people they knew (Urahara) pointing out that when something of the sort happened around Karakura, one Ichigo Kurosaki was literally always in the middle of it (and a little too often he was the cause of it, too), so surely nothing strange would happen in his absence, at least not on a scale any bigger than what the remaining residents could handle. Isshin, of course, refrained from sharing in his children's voicing of their concerns out loud, but he did have them, none the less. Unlike them, though, he had much stronger faith in his old acquaintance and friends' abilities to handle the situation well. And his children deserved, and more importantly _needed_ to have some time off, and if Isshin was sure of one fact, it was that they would only be able to get that if they were to go away from Karakura completely. So, practical man as he was, that was what he made them do. With his own personal supervision, of course.

The mad scrambling for belongings and appropriate ways to pack them (suitcases, which they did eventually have a sufficient number of for the trip) was nothing if not expected, with less than a week between planning the trip and actually executing it. It still caused the family of four to give the outwards appearance of being utterly unprepared (which, save for one, they were) the moment when the taxi driver pulled up to their home to pick them up.  
     Isshin had, of course had the forethought to check and prepare all their passports. And if Urahara had been responsible for procuring those passports? Then no one would be the wiser anyway, and it really was simpler this way. Not to mention it saved a whole lot of time.

“Are you for real?!” This exclamation belonged to Karin Kurosaki, who had just been told that she wouldn't be able to bring her drink aboard the plane.  
“I'm sorry, young miss, but that is the security protocol, it's the same for everyone. If you wish, you can buy a new drink on the other side of the security check before boarding.” Ichigo had to hand it to the lady, she sure knew how to stay calm and patient even faced with unreasonable kids (and teenagers). A short “Che” was the only response Karin cared to dignify her with, and her older brother just sighed quietly as he nodded to the security woman, and silently hoped that their father wouldn't make a fool of himself before, during or after their trip. It was probably far too much to wish for, but he could still hope.  
     Long hours later, their plane finally approached landing at a New York airport. All four Kurosakis were a little tired from the flight, not least due to the cramped space and very limited opportunities for movement. At least three out of four were very likely to take their first bout of sightseeing at a sprint, just to loosen up some stiff, cramped muscles.

 

Steve was on the second round of his daily morning run when he first spotted the kid. At first, his only reaction was mild surprise at seeing one of those bright-haired kids being so enthusiastic about working out; he hadn't really seen those two as traits that often combined, but as the boy got closer, he also noticed what kind of speed he was running at. Honestly, it was a little odd that he had noticed the teen at all, given the focus he had on the task at hand when working out, and the only person he was accustomed to interacting with was his regular jogging buddy, whom he tapped on the arm each time he passed him by.  
     High speed or not, Steve didn't _really_ take note of the teen before, a half-minute after the fourth tap on his friend's arm, he felt a tap on his own, followed shortly by an orange blur on his left that turned into the back of a young man racing forwards with long, springy steps. In that moment, he felt a brief sensation of what it must be like to be Sam when he himself passed him by, and it was the strangest thing. Almost like second-hand deja-vu.  
     This time, when Steve finally stopped running, he was more than a little more out of breath than usual. Sam Wilson was sitting under a tree looking up at him, still breathing heavily himself. They both looked up as, shortly after Rogers, the orange haired teenager stopped beside them, leaning forward with his hands on his knees and evidently trying to catch his breath as well. A little incredulously, Wilson noted that the boy was wearing a t-shirt, _and jeans_ . How the hell did he run like that in _jeans_ of all things? What sane person even _tried_ something like that, anyways? This kid was coming up one big enigma.

 

After the Kurosaki family had safely arrived at their hotel, they had in fact decided on a walk through the city to wake up their minds and bodies after the long flight, but seeing as there was decidedly a large gap between them concerning how much energy they needed to exert (Ichigo was definitely the one with the highest output, followed by Isshin, then Karin, and finally Yuzu, who was quite content with walking and sightseeing), they decided to split up, and as a result, they ended up going in three different directions, Karin and Yuzu staying together as the former rationalised she could always make use of the hotel's gym later if she needed a workout, and the latter really was much more comfortable having at least her twin sister by her side in a foreign city.  
     The two men in the family had both run off the moment there was an agreement that such a thing was acceptable, but it didn't take long for Ichigo to find out he wanted to ditch his father the first chance he got. He got enough of that overenthusiastic attitude back home, thank you very much. And besides, the old goat would probably be winded after a few miles and try to insist that Ichigo wait for him to catch his breath or something annoying like that. Not that the man didn't manage to be completely obnoxious no matter what.  
     So Ichigo was running by himself, and was quite enjoying it, along with the keen awareness of his surroundings that he needed to maintain in order to not get lost in this completely foreign place. It felt good to be aware that he was keeping himself sharp, if in a very mundane way. However, his train of thought was derailed when he spotted someone else also out on a morning jog. This guy was tall with muscular build, and appeared to be in a hurry, if his speed was anything to go by. However, that didn't quite seem right either, with the way he interacted with another morning jogger. Having observed from a distance for a while (and circled just about all the building blocks in the vicinity), Ichigo decided to have some fun with them. So, the next time their paths coincided, he broke from his “trail” and sauntered past the tall blond one in much the same fashion that same man had passed what he assumed to be his friend. It brought a small, unexpected rush with it, and Ichigo found himself smiling, and enjoying himself far more than he thought he would.

His competitive nature did not allow him to give away any ground, and by the time they were finished running – naturally, he could not stop before either of them – he felt pretty winded. He counted it for a victory that the two others did not appear any less so, though, and felt a victorious grin fight its way onto his face. He had run two whole rounds more than the tall blond one, who looked like he didn't usually have competition.  
     The other guy – he hadn't had the time, or caught his breath enough to ask for either of their names – looked over at the both of them with incredulity from where he was sitting under a tree, well on his way to catching his own breath, but not quite there yet. At that point, Ichigo himself only had enough composure to shoot a glance over at the taller man and flash him a toothy half smirk that spoke of the exertion he had just put himself through, and didn't yet quite notice the third presence looking at them both. The flash of teeth was quickly returned, followed by an extended hand and an adjacent introduction.

“Steve Rogers,” was said with a minute inclination of the head. For a short moment, the teenager just stared. Then he suddenly recalled that he was supposed to reply in kind, and promptly did so.

“Ah, Kuros- ah, no, Ichigo Kurosaki,” he quickly corrected himself, while distractedly scratching the back of his head, making himself look all the more awkward due to simultaneously making a small bow to accompany his introduction. When it became clear that he wasn't going to take the offered hand, it was slowly lowered, and Steve gave a short nod of his own in return in stead. By that time, Wilson had had the time to collect himself somewhat, and picked himself up off the ground to join the meet and greet in front of him.

“Sam Wilson here,” he introduced himself, momentarily forgetting about Steve's recent failure and extending his hand to the newcomer, just to retract it a moment later when he remembered. “I don't suppose you noticed me when you were flying past here earlier?” he added rhetorically, having noticed that the main part of the boy's focus had been on his taller, blonder friend when he came rushing by – not that he'd been paying attention, mind. Just an observation.

“Ah, yes, I did, I just did not have the time to say hi, is all,” came the retort from Ichigo, whose accent was gradually making itself more pronounced. A short pause, then; “I did not mean to be rude.” The slightly awkward looking half-smile made it seem like outright smiling wasn't really something this kid did all that much. The hand was also back up behind his head, like some kind of subconscious gesture of awkwardness. “You are quite fast, I am impressed,” Ichigo said to Wilson, after a short pause and having let his hand drop back down to his side. While he himself had managed to outrun the man, he could tell quite easily that for a normal human his performance was well above average. Wilson himself did not seem to agree though.

“Sure doesn't feel like that when the two of you leave me in the dust like that. I'm also not so sure how I'm gonna take that compliment of yours when you outperform me in such a way. Thanks anyway, though.” He was trying to keep his tone light, in an attempt to curb any negative feeling before it could form, because Captain America? That was one thing, but a teenager he was totally clueless about? That was something totally different, and he was almost sure he didn't like it. Never mind the kid had the same look in his eyes as the two of them; like he'd been to war. Now, he wasn't _completely_ sure, but at least pretty certain that Japan (that was where he _thought_ he was from, at least) didn't have a standing army, and even if it did, this kid couldn't possibly be old enough to join, and _that_ only left unpleasant alternatives, really.  
     For a moment he wondered if he had overdone it with the self-deprecation, after a short spell of silence, and- Yep, there was the awkward hand gesture, all right. It made Sam momentarily wonder if this guy lived in an anime, or if Japanese people actually acted like that. (He had a feeling they did.) This kid sure made it feel that way. “Eheh, I need to stretch my legs after the plane,” Ichigo said by way of explanation, obviously not catching on to the fact that that wasn't really a viable excuse for outrunning a literal superhuman. The comment did apparently pique Steve's curiosity, though.  
     “If you don't mind me asking; where're you from?” the supersoldier asked, while looking at the teenager in interest.  
     Again, the first response was body language speaking of awkwardness, but this time subdued, and quickly followed by a verbal response. “Karakura, Tokyo. You probably didn't hear of it, is a small town. You live here?” the return question was obviously directed at them both, and Sam and Steve exchanged a quick glance before answering.  
     “If by 'here' you mean New York, then yeah, we're from around,” came the reply, from the one Ichigo remembered presenting himself as Rogers. “Isn't it a bit early to be out running, though? I mean, you did just arrive here, isn't that right? Shouldn't you be back at the hotel sleeping off the jet lag or something?” he further enquired, pointing to the fact that it was still rather early for most people to be up and about.  
     “Ah, no. I needed to stretch my legs for a bit, the rest of my family also. I am not so sleepy, more restless. My sisters will probably be walking around for a while longer, so no one important is going to miss me. Do you plan to work out more? I could use some more exercise, if you allow me to join you.”  
The visibly astonished faces of his two new acquaintances did not seem to deter the teen at all, though on the inside his hopes for positive response dwindled. However, at the same time that Wilson started to slowly shake his head, Rogers – just as slowly – started to nod his. He met Wilson's look of disbelief with a steady gaze that reassured him that he would not be involuntarily dragged into this.  
“I do have an idea that I think might work,” the supersoldier divulged, finding the idea of getting to know this boy better more than a little compelling. He was, after all, not used to being outdone physically the way he just had been.  
Surprise as well as delight lit up the face of the Kurosaki boy; surprise at the positive response, and delight at being able to (hopefully) get a proper workout. With _friends,_ no less.

 


	2. Making friends

“Okay, I know I said that I didn't want to have anything to do with whatever the two of you are going to do, but you know what? I think I'll tag along to watch, even if it's going to give me an inferiority complex for a while.”  
     Right at the start of their trek to wherever it was Rogers was leading them, Wilson had declared that whatever it was that his friend had planned – or was planning that minute – he was not going to be a part of it. He had stated, loud and clear, that the super-humans could have their party without him. Now, it seemed, he had changed his mind about that.

After an about fifteen minute trek – far, _far_ too long a time to be just _walking_ , in Kurosaki's mind, they finally reached what looked to be their destination; a tall, modern looking building with a large letter “A” on the side, that didn't really tell him as much as it did most of the rest of the world. There was something to be said for knowing next to nothing of recent events at your chosen holiday destination, even if said events had been world wide news, and it spoke loudly of how separate from the rest of the world certain Karakura residents had become, and how busy they had been kept with other, probably even more world threatening events. After all, even if the aliens _had_ wiped out most of the population on earth, they wouldn't have had any impact on the _afterlife_ , or the potential to possibly unravel reality itself. Detachedly, Ichigo wondered what would become of Hell if the living world, Soul Society and Hueco Mundo collapsed in on themselves. He supposed it would have been pulled along with the rest, but if not, that would be truly bleak; if the only plane of existence left was that reserved for eternal suffering as punishment for past misdeeds.  
     As soon as he noticed his thoughts going off on a tangent, he shook himself out of his reverie, and quickly collected himself to follow the two men into the building in front of them. A skyscraper, truly, but that detail wasn't really interesting to him. This one didn't at all resemble the ones in his inner world, anyway. It was really nice, though, especially on the inside, but the interior also made him wonder what they were doing there, because it looked most of all like some kind of a business building.  
     Rogers must have caught on to his skepticism, because he chose that moment to look over at him and speak. “Don't worry, only about half the building is office space and business. The other half is, in the owner's own words 'all fun stuff', and for at least half of it he's partway right. There's a swimming pool, for one.” Huh. A swimming pool? He didn't have swimming trunks with him, so he hoped that wasn't part of the plan. “Really? A swimming pool? Is it on one of the upper floors, too?” he asked curiously. That made Rogers laugh a little. “Yes, but that's not where we're going,” he answered humorously, while leading them into one of the many elevators. Ichigo did his best to repress the discomfort the enclosed space caused him, knowing that the actual risk was miniscule, and not wanting to come across as fidgety. He could clearly feel the speed with which they were going up, something he had noticed during the flight as well. It was a strange feeling, being aware of moving at exactly such and such fractions of a flash step. It was actually something he was able to take comfort in; in the unlikely event that the elevator should fall, he would be able to successfully counteract the impact, if not actually stop its decent. It was also a little daunting to think of how he _knew_ all this.

The gym was _epic_. Not only did it have just about every type of equipment imaginable – _useful_ equipment, that was – ; it was huge. It had to consist of almost the entire floor, only allowing for some changing rooms and showers, apart from the elevators.  
     “Nice,” Ichigo commented, mentally picturing where he was going in order of need and interest (what did he _need_ to do, what did he want to try, and so on), and hoped he would be able to get at least one of his companions roped into sparring with him. Experience had taught him that he needed skills at hand-to-hand, to cover for all eventualities. And who better than a superhuman to keep him on his toes?  
     “You think so? I'll have to let Tony know that you like it. He's very proud of his tower, especially the part that's not public,” Rogers explained, divulging that he knew someone named Tony, who apparently owned this whole building.  
     “Sure. The only gym equipment I've ever really used is a treadmill, though,” Ichigo replied, a shadow coming over his face as he reminisced. He'd been turned off treadmills for life, most likely, thanks to that infernal contraption.  
     “Really? You strike me as the type to be a regular gym goer, what with that stamina you've got going and all,” Wilson shot in.  
     “I work out, just not in the gym,” was the short reply.  
     “Well, what do we do first? I'm new around her, will you show me the ropes?” Talk about quick turnaround, the two Americans thought to themselves, watching the teenager look around himself in glee.  
     “I'm sure Sam could show you how to work the machines,” Rogers supplied, knowing that his friend knew his way around them better than himself.

The day went on.

A little later, the mood of the room was a different one. Looking at the teenager contemplatively, Steve Rogers made a decision.  
     “Say, you wouldn't want to try a sparring match, would you?” he queried, fully prepared to have the idea shot down. What he got in stead was a nearly manic grin.  
     “I thought, you'd never ask,” Ichigo replied, already cracking his knuckles and popping joints, preparing himself for the impact.

Seeing the two of them closing in on one another, Sam Wilson had warning bells going off in his mind, and had the good sense to intercept them before things could get out of hand.  
“Okay, you two, I think laying down a few ground rules before you go at each other might be a good idea, yeah?” he fished for reassurance, hoping they'd get the point. Short nods from both parties would suffice.  
“Good. First, you stick to the marked off area, overstepping means losing.” Short nods. “Second, no underhanded tricks, and no trying to actually cause injuries. This is just a friendly scuffle.“ Another set of nods. “Third: don't break anything.” This was followed by one short nod and one eye roll.  
With that, Wilson gave the signal for them to start, and the fight was on. Silently, Wilson added an _including each other_ to that last point, and watched on in anticipation of the inevitable.

 

In another part of the tower, one Tony stark decided to do a random check on the internal security system of the tower, meaning checking the camera feeds from some of the cameras installed in practically every room in the building (except the bathrooms, because he wasn't that much of a creep) including, in this instance, the 34th floor gym. On the list of things he was expecting to see on that particular feed, one thing that very notably did _not_ feature was Captain America sparring with a teenager. Which was what he was presented with. To say he was perplexed would have been an understatement.  
     “Okay... So now we are play fighting with teenagers? Jarvis, are you logging this, or am I somehow hallucinating Capcicle sparring with a kid with a traffic cone for hair?” The sheer disbelief was palpable in Tony's voice.  
     “Inconclusive on the relation to traffic accessories, sir, but it does seem as though captain Rogers is engaged in a non-serious physical competition with mr. Kurosaki, whom he and Wilson have invited with themselves into the tower.” One of Tony Stark's eye brows found itself elevated.  
     “Kurosaki? Are we talking genuinely asian here, or is he just from downtown?” the millionaire mused out loud.  
     “I have footage of mr. Kurosaki and his family leaving a plane arriving from Tokyo earlier this morning. Their passports all check out as genuinely Japanese, though their acquiry process – very recent, might I ad – seems oddly expedient. It certainly appears as though such matters are dealt with much more efficiently in Japan than is common practice in the US.” After this quip, the AI paused briefly, as if hesitant.  
     “I also have CCTV-footage of mr. Kurosaki shortly after embarking on his morning jog, when he encounters a group of what seems to be delinquents harassing a youth probably around his own age. I believe all five of them are currently being treated for their various injuries at a local hospital. The young man he aided seems to have escaped the scuffle relatively unharmed.” Tony let out a long breath. This guy hadn't even been in the states for half a day, and he already had time to play vigilante, go for a run, and befriend two of the local super heroes. Tony Stark was duly impressed. Also a little on edge. What kind of a kid _was_ this?  
     “Jarvis, put him in the file. You know the one.”  
     “Of course, sir.”

 

Wilson had to admit to himself, if to no one else, that he wasn't quite as worried about this sparring match as he probably ought to be, taking into account Steve's considerable physical advantage. He ascribed it to that unnerving glint in the kid's eyes, that had him on edge from the moment he saw it. The look that said he had definitely seen worse predicaments in his time, and that a super-soldier was no match to him compared to previous adversaries.  
Seeing the unfolding of the match between the two now, Sam had no other alternative than recognising that his gut feeling had rung true, with no particular regrets to the fact; there was definitely no signs of this spar being unevenly matched. Ichigo, while definitely being shorter and thinner, also quite definitely had the edge when it came to speed, and had no inhibitions with putting all the force he could muster behind each punch or kick he launched. By the looks of Steve each time they connected, that force was considerable.

No matter how much he had been expecting a pretty real fight, the kid packed a much stronger punch than Steve was prepared for. It wasn't that he was struggling against him, rather that he posed an actual challenge. He had to admit at first he thought speed was the only thing he had going for him, but God, this kid could fight. It was all he could do to keep up.  
     Just when he thought he had managed to gain the upper hand, a swift kick and sweep had him flying through the air and his back slamming into the floor before he had the time to react. At that exact moment, the door to the gym opened to reveal Tony Stark, whose face morphed into something that was more than surprise, but not quite shock, thanks mainly to the video feed's forewarning.  
     “Just what in actual Hell is going on here?” the millionaire asked flatly, in a tone that didn't actually sound accusing or abrasive in any way. Cap was on the floor though. _Still_. That was hardly something to be considered normal.  
     Just as that thought registered through the genius' staggering brain, Traffic Cone Head reached out and helped pull Steve to his feet, like this was in any way normal.  
     “Sorry about that, I didn't try to actually hurt you,” Ichigo excused himself, looking a bit sheepish, and obviously deeming the fight over, considering he had all but completely dropped his guard.  
     “No worries, I'm quite a bit sturdier than that,” replied Steve with a smile, needlessly dusting himself off a little. Then he moved his eyes and caught sight of the billionaire in the doorway.  
     “Tony. Hello. What're you doing down here, You're never in the gym,” he half greeted, half asked.  
     “Hey, I am too in the gym! Just because you've never seen me here doesn't mean I'm actually never here!” Tony exclaimed indignantly.  
     “Besides, whose gym exactly is this? I was just curious about you and Birdwing's new friend, is all. Where'd you find him?” For all the world, the man that spent large parts of his time as Iron Man managed to look and sound like a bratty, nosy kid. Not that he wasn't, mind you, at least according to those who claimed to know him.  
     “Why can't you ever just use people's real names?” Sam shot in, already a little fed up with the older man's antics, and most of all annoyed by his own most recent nickname.  
     “Where's the fun in that?” was Stark's immediate reply.  
     “Also, who's Carrot Top, and where'd you find him?” he added, ignoring the irked expression on the mentioned teenager's face. Ichigo, in the background, was fighting a violent twitch at the corner of his eye, pertaining to being ignored and talked about at the same time.  
     “It's Ichigo, for your information, and I am right here, why do you not ask me?” he bit out, in a tone eerily reminiscent of a certain young, white haired captain, if he had only stopped to think about it. Luckily for Ichigo, he did not. A little startled, all of the three other occupants of the room turned towards him. They actually _had_ been overlooking him. Tony was the one who regained the use of his tongue first.  
     “Well then, Ichigo, care to explain how you're able to outrun Cap like its a total breeze _after_ casually beating up a whole gang of bullies single handed?” he asked, trying not to be too accusing in his tone of voice but not quite succeeding. Ichigo, on his part, was both disturbed and confused as to how this man that he'd just met could know what he'd been up to that morning. Eventually he decided he'd probably find out later, so he might as well just leave it be.  
     “I don't like bullies,” he mumbled defiantly, after sticking his hands in his pockets and turning his head downwards and to the side.  
     Three sets of eyebrows elevated simultaneously.  
     “Well, that's good and all, but it doesn't really explain anything. Cap is a _super soldier,_ as in superhuman. Unless you're some sort of hybrid or mutant, which I doubt, since they've only really been popping up here in the states, then what you just did, as well as what you did earlier today, really shouldn't be possible.” Tony was about to go on with his rant, but had taken note of how the teenager had noticeably stiffened at the word “hybrid” being mentioned, then immediately catched himself and made himself relax. Maybe there was something to be learned here after all.

Though not one to usually have any triggers that regular people caught on to, Ichigo couldn't help but react to the newest arrival's non-accusation-that-was-sort-of-an-accusation-after-all. After all, he _was_ a hybrid. Sort of. Vizards _were_ hybrids, after all, and he was one of those. That qualified, right? Probably. Now for the task of convincing these people that he was _normal._ Or at least that he wasn't crazy, or a freak.  
     “I, uh... I work out a lot, I guess?” What started out as a statement, turned up at the end and became a question in stead, and the teenager's hand was back up behind his head, and that awkward half-smile that Wilson had reacted to that morning was back in full swing. Seeing that the ruling expression on the others' faces was still disbelief, he decided he had to elaborate further.  
     “If you had a father that tried to drop-kick you every morning as a way to wake you up, I bet your reaction times would be pretty damn good too,” he added, in a slightly irritated voice. This statement was met with three identical looks of disbelief, that Ichigo didn't see, due to the fact that he had momentarily closed his eyes. With a short sigh, he reopened his eyes and straightened his back and neck, his hand still up behind his head, but the expression on his face had morphed into a casual, carefree and slightly disinterested one.  
     “Anyway, I'm just pretty fit, is all, nothing really special. I mean, my friend Chad could probably best me in pretty much anything except speed, and that one's a close thing, too.” Suddenly he pinned them all with a stare, with no hint at all outside his next words that he was mentally flipping them off. That was still probably just them imagining. “Earlier today and just now was probably just a fluke.”

Fluke. Yeah, right. That was _so_ what it had been. Not. All three men in the room thought identical, synchronised thoughts right at that moment. No way in fucking _Hell_ had that just been a fluke. If anything, that statement should just make them disbelieve him more. And probably be wary of anyone he called a friend, just in case.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been ready for forever, so I guess an apology for not actually posting it before now is in order, though this means I'll have to round up some inspiration in order to get the next chapter going. Also, the only form of editing this has gotten is me fixing the spacing after copying it on here. I am grateful to anyone pointing out any transgressions, be it against grammar, plot, characterisation or continuity. (Though the plot doesn't really show yet, does it?)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if anyone is terribly out of character, or if i made some sort of horrible mistake somewhere; this work has not been properly edited.


End file.
